


Tell Me When

by pamdizzle



Series: Tumblr Fics and Drabbles--Gobblepot Edition [1]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, Communication is even sexier, Consent is Sexy, Drabble, Established Relationship, Fluff, Frottage, Intimacy, M/M, Making Out, New Relationship, Non-Explicit Sexual Content, Oswald's Massive Insecurity (TM), Sweetness, Tumblr Fic, maximum fluff, minimal angst, very mild angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 10:43:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17785895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pamdizzle/pseuds/pamdizzle
Summary: Another something I wrote as a result of this afternoon's boredom. Prompted by LadySpock7.The gist is this: Jim is Oswald's boyfriend, and he couldn't be happier except...well, Jim seems fond of playing with Oswald's ear during sex--sucking, biting, licking--and Oz doesn't like it. It isn't a big deal, so why shouldn't he just tolerate it?Jim tells him why.





	Tell Me When

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ladyspock7](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyspock7/gifts).



Oswald takes a deep breath, stomach quivering with a familiar anticipation, as Jim kisses along his jaw. He closes his eyes and tilts his neck in clear invitation, hips rising to meet the slow rock of Jim’s hips between his thighs. They’re both still dressed, Oswald clad in his favorite black silk pajamas while Jim dons his usual sweats and t-shirt. 

They’d gone to bed separately, Jim held up on a case and the subsequent paperwork that follows a public discharge of his service pistol. Of course, Oswald told Jim to stop by no matter the hour–that he’d be up. He’d dozed off while reading, awakened just as Jim curled around him. He’d told Oswald to go back to sleep, but their relationship is still new. He doesn’t want to waste time sleeping when Jim is warm and willing, constantly aware that it could be over at the drop of a hat.

It’s the nature of Oswald’s experiences with good things, with happiness, that it tends to end abruptly. It’s why he doesn’t complain when Jim does the thing with the ear. And the…licking? 

Oswald isn’t an expert on foreplay, but he questions this practice of ear-play. Is that a thing? Is this what people define as sexy? Personally, he likens it to an intense wet-willy, something he’d been the victim of on a daily basis as a child. And maybe that’s why he doesn’t particularly enjoy it. 

He sighs, forces himself to breathe and tolerate the irritating sensation. If it pleases Jim to do it, then Oswald will allow it. He won’t risk upsetting Jim, or the comfort he seems to find in Oswald’s arms these days by complaining about his technique. He doesn’t have any desire to discourage the attention anyway, despite wanting to have it focused elsewhere. Literally, anywhere else. 

He isn’t as subtle as he hopes, however, and Jim goes still above him. “Everything alright?”

Oswald opens his eyes, finds Jim regarding him with concern. He flushes, ashamed. “Of course. You didn't need to stop.”

Jim frowns. “I do if you’re not enjoying yourself.”

He sounds angry, and Oswald’s heart drops. Quickly, he vows, “It's nothing, really. And, I am enjoying myself--very much--you know I always do when we’re together. I…I hope you do, too.” 

His frown softens slightly at the reassurance, and he bends forward to kiss Oswald’s forehead. “I do. But you stopped moving, and so I’m worried that maybe you’re too tired, maybe you're pushing yourself to do something you don't really feel like doing right now…”

Oswald groans. “No. It’s…Jim, please. I--”

“Oz.”

“It’s ridiculous, honestly.” 

“Not if it bothers you,” Jim tells him. “Now spit it out.” 

Oswald chews his lip, can’t fathom a way around the truth, and fretfully blurts, “Is the ear sucking very necessary?” 

Jim blinks. “Ear…sucking?”

“I don’t…” he closes his eyes, cheeks burning, “I want to like it, but it feels like I’m being mauled by an over-exuberant St. Bernard, Jim. I hate it. But if it’s something you like to do, you don’t have to stop. I can handle it.” 

There’s a heavy sigh from Jim, and then he moves–-maybe just to readjust, maybe to get up and leave-–and Oswald panics. He wraps his arms around Jim’s shoulders and pleas, “I’m sorry! It really doesn’t matter–”

“Hey,” Jim shushes him, “look at me, Oz.” 

Warily, Oswald complies to find Jim regarding him flatly, but there’s an amused quality to it and so he asks, “You’re not…angry?”

“No, but I am little worried about you right now,” he says. “It’s okay to have preferences, and it’s okay to expect me to respect the things you’re uncomfortable with. If you aren’t into it, then neither am I.”

“But-”

“No,” Jim adamantly denies, “there are no buts. Would you get off on making me uncomfortable during sex, Oswald?”

Oswald vehemently sputters, “Of course not!”

“Exactly.”

“Oh.” 

Jim huffs, presses a kiss to his neck. “What about this?” he asks. “Do you like it when I kiss you here?”

Oswald shivers. “Y-yes.” 

Jim’s hands slide down along his side, grip his thighs as he rocks his hips and bites down on Oswald’s collar. “What about here?”

Oswald throws his head back, “Yes. Yes, yes, yes…” 

“That’s what I like to hear,” Jim tells him. “But if it’s ever a no…I want to hear that, too, okay?”

He runs his fingers through Jim’s hair, isn’t quite sure what he’s done to deserve him–-or any of this, really-–and nods. Oswald isn’t going to question it, and maybe it won’t last, but maybe…

Maybe he’s wrong about that, too.

“Okay, Jim.”

 

 

 


End file.
